It started as a baseball tournament weekend of hell. Saturday games went well but that night I had stomach pains of no other. Next morning I was in a fetal position in bed with pains so intense that beads of sweat had formed on my forehead. Now I am sure my kids had true compassion as they offered to go to Wal-Mart to buy me things to make dad feel better. I told them sure go and get me meds but Ashley asks should I take your debt card or your visa but answers quickly her own question with “no problem I found both of them.” I tried to say take my $5 but too late, off to the shopping world Molly and Ashley shall go. Too weak to finish Sundays tournament the kids propped my up in the pickup truck and sent me back to Manhattan as they had their own car. I started to ask what they were going to do for money but remembered they had all my plastic.
That night is where this is little TMI, by morning there was a pile of underwear that had the battle scars of missed opportunities to the throne. Next day wife came down with stomach pains and started adding to the growing pile. By 7:00pm that night it was an aromic pile of underwear and now a bed sheet. Must say if I ever had the urge to work in a Nursing Home, I no longer had the urge. What’s that? Oh now Gunnar has stomach pains…. Sigh
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